Sabertooth
by JM West
Summary: In dark, poverty stricken city, filled with crime,a strange hero arises from the poor neighborhoods to kill for the good.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 It was dark in the city of Konradsohoe in the late summer night. Teenage kids played like wild animals in the streets with beer and cigarette packs everywhere, while some people with minds of sense slept soundly in their beds. The buildings were small even though this was downtown at only about three or four floors high, and some of them in falling apart condition. Most of the streets in the lower class neighborhoods like this were muddy as a pig sty because the city didn't even have the money to pave all of it's roads. Crime haunted the streets, along with something else...something dark and nightmarish. Up in the rooftops it was a dark figure of a man. A man with a dark personality to tear out the weak minds of humanity. His mind was of both good and evil thoughts. He haunted the streets, murdering members of young gangs to show his hatred to the world that rejected him like an animal. A creature with no feelings at all. This man had no self esteem left in him due to the people of the world treating him like an animal. As a boy, he was barked harsh comments at cruelly by other boys and girls that despised him because he was different. They said he was a monster, though he could only show them the monster that lurked inside of him. He knew he was a beast at heart but didn't care anymore. That was the past that effected him. He was a mutant that the world despised and thought of as separate from the human race. Though they were wrong. He would show them. Just because he could heal faster and be immune to poisons or most disease that that didn't make him an animal, but a human being with only enhanced genes. He knew his name was Victor and not sure of his last name, because his parents abandoned him in early childhood because of the same reason other people hated him. He was different. Although his name was Victor, he also had given himself a deadly nickname that showed pure aggression and anger that increased with rage, and rage grew into hate, and the hate grew into...death. He nickname was Sabertooth. Victor sat on the old molded pipe of a run down tenement that he used as a hiding place from everyone else. The humans who hated him for no reason. Their cruel actions couldn't get to him up here. Four stories above the dark streets. He was almost nocturnal because he always slept in the day most of the time, because he did his work at night...which was killing the gangs off one by one. No one was out to stop him either at this hour at night. At what he thought was around 2am. Only young hoodlums with drugs, money, and little food or clothing. He tried to the let the innocent little teenage kids live, but that was when he was in a good mood. He had taken Martial Arts from an old man who trained him hard when he was younger. He had been beaten with a rod when he didn't obey his master as the man had wished to be called. That man was dead know, but Victor was now as strong and agile as a frog. Though he called himself Sabertooth because he had made sharp nails like that of tiger for his fingers as a weapon. Why a tiger? Because it suited him well with dark attitude of evilness fighting for good. He didn't call himself either, just a man with a superhuman healing factor. He heard young men's' voices down below the building talking about killing some girl. They were obviously on drugs. Victor could hear every word they said because he had great senses because of his master's harsh but worthwhile teachings. They were all down in the floor below him smoking and cussing their heads off in drunkenness. Victor peered through a vent down at them in disgust. They all sat in worn out lawn chairs around a small circular table talking. "I can't believe you actually let her think we wouldn't kill her," one man moaned," last time I checked, you was the team bruiser." "Ahhh...shut up Ralph," the other one said. There were three of them. "Dude we shouldn't have killed the chick at all," the third proclaimed" you heard what happened to the last guy that messed with a civilian. I heard the demon got him and-" "That's bull," the first laughed," they aint a demon in Konradsohoe." "Yeah but-"third moaned "Dude," the second shouted there is no demon for peat's sake! That's only a story that a fifteen year-old kid told you. You know that's just a lying lil rascal." The third man groaned and sat back in his chair. Victor leaned through the vent at the gang of murderers. They didn't even see him in the dark room. A sneak attack, just his favorite to just come and leave out nowhere. He readied himself to drop in on the guys. He leaped forward to the first man and landed with his claws sunk into the young man's chest. The man screamed and fell to the floor wailing in pain. The other two men jumped up and drew their switchblades in a rush to fight. Their faces though flushed with great fear as Victor kicked one of them in the chin, sending them flying through the air into a metal pole. The last man pulled out a pistol and aimed it at Victor. He smiled an evil smile and started to pull the trigger but Victor ducked and slid down under the man's legs and punched the man in his private area sending him flying through the air at the moaning man with claw marks in his chest. Both of the men went through a glass window to the streets. They screamed as they both fell to their deaths. The last man was still lying unconscious against the pole. Victor slowly walked over to the man who he realized was pretending to be asleep. He swiftly pushed his claws into the man's heart which caused him to give a faint scream of terror then nothing. Victor quickly carved an "s" in the man's stomach that was like a lighting bolt. It was his symbol that he had been here. Kind of like a short way of writing "Sabertooth was here." Then he crawled back up to the roof and waited their until morning. Chapter 2 "Gaihert, I just can't believe it,"Lenna Deiran proclaimed in shock," they say this guy is immortal. They say he drinks blood...I've even heard that it tortures kids and hangs them for display to the public!" Lenna Deiran was a reporter for the Konradsohoe Sun. She was now standing in the chief's office arguing over the deal about the monster that came out at night everyone called Sabertooth. "That's only a myth Lenna,"cheif Gaihert said softly," it's only a story that's got popular among young people." Deiran growled and stamped her foot on the floor. Gaihert was a short long haired man with big vampire glasses. "Look at these photographs,"Deiran hissed slamming a stack of papers on her boss' desk, "these were taken of an attack that happened last night." Gaihert half smiled and took the photos in his hands to look at them. The first one showed a young man tied to a pole with a lightning bolt carved across his chest. The second showed to dead men on a sidewalk covered in dark blood. Then the third showed some blood and insides spilled onto the wooden floor of a building. Gaihert just shook his head in a disappointed smile. Deiran prepared for a horrible lecture on media but Gaihert only said one word,"bullcrap." "What do you mean,"Deiran shouted," these photos are perfect proof!" "Here at Konradsohoe Press, we only put facts in our papers not theories." "These are facts,"Deiran said. "Proof of what,"Gaihert smurked,"that three men were slaughtered in a building?" "That there is at least something out there killing people,"Deiran stated. Gaihert sat back in his chair and twirled his long hippy hair. He then looked at her as if to a child telling of an imaginary friend. "Look Ms. Deiran,"he said softly," this Sabertooth thing out there is like a Yeti. Only a tale that is among gang members throughout this city. They've interviewed residents in that neighborhood and figured that no one has seen the 'Sabertooth' except drugged up hoodlums in baggy pants and tattoos. It's something that should be posted in the 'Weekly World News' magazine of lies, not on the cover of my Sunday morning paper. Okay?" Deiran just shook her head and stamped out of the room angrily. She was tired of him doing this to her. It was this way every time she came up with a story. Gaihert always wanted something else from her than what she brought to him. Even when she brought him a story about what he wanted he would still say it was garbage of a blank mind. She was ready to quit and work for another press company. This was pathetic! Maybe she could get a job at the Bulletin in Oaklynn. That was just on the other side of the river from here. Any borough in Providence would be better than Konradsohoe. Here it was packed with people crammed everywhere you looked. When just across the river, it was just like a peaceful small town, only much larger.

She also needed to go pick her daughter up from school. Her daughter was sophomore in high school so she would be driving soon. But Deiran didn't know for sure around here. All of Providence was a poor, dirty city filled with street gangs and drugs. Deiran got her purse and looked over at co-chief at her desk beside her. His name was Dave Dromes

"Leaving early aren't you," he proclaimed.

"Oh, going to pick up my daughter from school," Deiran proclaimed.

"Colby Gaihert beating on you again," Dromes smiled, "if he is, don't worry. I can talk to him."

"Thanks," Deiran said and headed for the door to the hall.

Chapter 3 Victor sat on his couch inside his tiny apartment in the tenement he lived in. The apartment was only a room about the size of a motel room. It only had a stove, sink, TV stand, bed, couch, and a small desk where he worked on his laptop computer and writing materials. He wrote for a living and published his books online. He had found website to send his books to, and they would send him money for it. They always published them and he got good money, but he only got money about once every six months. That was why he lived like this. He had a dog named Rocky that always slept out on the balcony of his apartment. Victor watched the tv screen in boredom. He felt wind from his fan blow across his shirtless chest. He was sitting there in a pair of black jeans and Converses without socks on his feet. He starred at Jerry Springer's face talking with a fighting man and wife who her fist fighting on stage. The woman was hissing curse words in the man's face while he had her down. Victor laughed at the hilarious enraged woman. She obviously had anger problems. He watched this Reno 911, Most Haunted, and David Letterman all the time with many other shows that were either terrifying or hilarious. Just like him. In the day he was hilarious, and at night he haunted the streets to terrorize everyone. He felt bored. What was their to do around here but sit around, watch TV, and sleep all day. He stood up and walked out onto his balcony. The street below was empty. All but a few girls were inside their poor apartments. Across the street, a young boy walked out onto his balcony bare naked and leaned against the railing. He whistled at the girls down in the street and they went nuts, laughing and pointing as if it were a hilarious movie. Victor rolled his eyes looked toward the city central area. This city had no skyscrapers in it. Not one. It was to cheaply built. But he saw the Providence tower in the distance stretching 900 feet into the sky. So much higher than the buildings below which rarely went to a hundred feet. Most of the people around here didn't care about him but he may be able to find a job closer to the center of Midtown. But that was a dream. Nobody cared about him. But they didn't know he was Sabertooth. That was all that really mattered to him. He slowly walked back into his apartment to sit down at his laptop. It was an old one. About five years old but still worked fine. He logged onto the web to look at his books.

Mayor Sulvice sat at his desk in his office at the Konradsohoe Courthouse. His assistant, Jerry Louens, was in front of his desk holding a portfolio in his hands full of pictures. It would be in only two days that the cities 400th anniversary would take place. Sulvice wanted to have the celebration on Downtown Square to attract more people. But this rumor about Sabertooth worried him. People may not want to get out of their homes. But that was a bunch of crud about 'Sabertooth.' How many times did he have to tell the executives of this city, "there is no Sabertooth." People these days.

Sulvice was an elderly man in his mid sixties, balding head with brown hair which was getting gray, a pale face, and brown eyes. While Louens was much younger in his early thirties, black hair, a muscular pale body that was like that of a wrestler from WWE. His eyes seemed to be glaring all the time, but that was only his facial expression.

"Louens,"Sulvice proclaimed, "isn't there something you can do to get people out there?"

"I can only try to," Louens replied, "These people around here in Midtown are afraid to go out at night. This Sabertooth monster has got word all over town. I don't believe it, but most of the public does. To me there just scared of the Mothman."

"The Mothman,"Sulvice smirked, "that's some good phrase use. They act like this thing is some monster lurking in the shadows ready to kill anyone it sees."

"People are afraid to let their children go out at night,"Louens stated, "because they've heard it hangs kids, and sometimes rips out their wind pipe from their throats so no one hears them cry and scream."

"Ahhh,"Sulvice scowled, "that's the biggest shit I ever heard!"

Louens layed the portfolio down on the desk. It had nothing written on it at all.

"This is a collection of letters from concerned executives," he said, "they're all dealing with the celebration and the monster. They want you to know why they suggest that you not have the celebration this year."

"You listen to me now Louens," he shouted, "we are going to have this city's four hundredth anniversary celebration if we have to force people out their! This city has been through a lot in my lifetime. When I was small boy, half of this city's streets were unpaved and the school I went to was a rundown building with no windows, no desks, no seats, no private bathrooms, and a dirt floor! In the early eighties, there was the sniper who murdered three hundred people in a month! And just ten years ago in '98, half of the old wooden tenements in the South Side of Downtown burned to the ground! I tell you if we can have peace through all that, we can have it through this one monster man!!"

The room fell silent as Sulvice calmed himself down. Louens stared at him in seriousness. Sulvice realized he was standing up and sat back down in his chair. He sat back in his seat frustrated. These people around here were impossible. Ever since he moved here from his childhood home of Gestinal across the river, things had been this way for him.

"Louens,"he mumbled calmly, "Providence is a poor, dirty city in a poor part of the country. But that's no excuse for cowards and crime to be here."

"Maybe we should have it on Broadway Square," he grumbled, "lots of young people hang out there."

"Good idea,"Sulvice smiled, "let's get to work."

Chapter 4


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1 It was dark in the city of Konradsohoe in the late summer night. Teenage kids played like wild animals in the streets with beer and cigarette packs everywhere, while some people with minds of sense slept soundly in their beds. The buildings were small even though this was downtown at only about three or four floors high, and some of them in falling apart condition. Most of the streets in the lower class neighborhoods like this were muddy as a pig sty because the city didn't even have the money to pave all of it's roads. Crime haunted the streets, along with something else...something dark and nightmarish. Up in the rooftops it was a dark figure of a man. A man with a dark personality to tear out the weak minds of humanity. His mind was of both good and evil thoughts. He haunted the streets, murdering members of young gangs to show his hatred to the world that rejected him like an animal. A creature with no feelings at all. This man had no self esteem left in him due to the people of the world treating him like an animal. As a boy, he was barked harsh comments at cruelly by other boys and girls that despised him because he was different. They said he was a monster, though he could only show them the monster that lurked inside of him. He knew he was a beast at heart but didn't care anymore. That was the past that effected him. He was a mutant that the world despised and thought of as separate from the human race. Though they were wrong. He would show them. Just because he could heal faster and be immune to poisons or most disease that that didn't make him an animal, but a human being with only enhanced genes. He knew his name was Victor and not sure of his last name, because his parents abandoned him in early childhood because of the same reason other people hated him. He was different. Although his name was Victor, he also had given himself a deadly nickname that showed pure aggression and anger that increased with rage, and rage grew into hate, and the hate grew into...death. He nickname was Sabertooth. Victor sat on the old molded pipe of a run down tenement that he used as a hiding place from everyone else. The humans who hated him for no reason. Their cruel actions couldn't get to him up here. Four stories above the dark streets. He was almost nocturnal because he always slept in the day most of the time, because he did his work at night...which was killing the gangs off one by one. No one was out to stop him either at this hour at night. At what he thought was around 2am. Only young hoodlums with drugs, money, and little food or clothing. He tried to the let the innocent little teenage kids live, but that was when he was in a good mood. He had taken Martial Arts from an old man who trained him hard when he was younger. He had been beaten with a rod when he didn't obey his master as the man had wished to be called. That man was dead know, but Victor was now as strong and agile as a frog. Though he called himself Sabertooth because he had made sharp nails like that of tiger for his fingers as a weapon. Why a tiger? Because it suited him well with dark attitude of evilness fighting for good. He didn't call himself either, just a man with a superhuman healing factor. He heard young men's' voices down below the building talking about killing some girl. They were obviously on drugs. Victor could hear every word they said because he had great senses because of his master's harsh but worthwhile teachings. They were all down in the floor below him smoking and cussing their heads off in drunkenness. Victor peered through a vent down at them in disgust. They all sat in worn out lawn chairs around a small circular table talking. "I can't believe you actually let her think we wouldn't kill her," one man moaned," last time I checked, you was the team bruiser." "Ahhh...shut up Ralph," the other one said. There were three of them. "Dude we shouldn't have killed the chick at all," the third proclaimed" you heard what happened to the last guy that messed with a civilian. I heard the demon got him and-" "That's bull," the first laughed," they aint a demon in Konradsohoe." "Yeah but-"third moaned "Dude," the second shouted there is no demon for peat's sake! That's only a story that a fifteen year-old kid told you. You know that's just a lying lil rascal." The third man groaned and sat back in his chair. Victor leaned through the vent at the gang of murderers. They didn't even see him in the dark room. A sneak attack, just his favorite to just come and leave out nowhere. He readied himself to drop in on the guys. He leaped forward to the first man and landed with his claws sunk into the young man's chest. The man screamed and fell to the floor wailing in pain. The other two men jumped up and drew their switchblades in a rush to fight. Their faces though flushed with great fear as Victor kicked one of them in the chin, sending them flying through the air into a metal pole. The last man pulled out a pistol and aimed it at Victor. He smiled an evil smile and started to pull the trigger but Victor ducked and slid down under the man's legs and punched the man in his private area sending him flying through the air at the moaning man with claw marks in his chest. Both of the men went through a glass window to the streets. They screamed as they both fell to their deaths. The last man was still lying unconscious against the pole. Victor slowly walked over to the man who he realized was pretending to be asleep. He swiftly pushed his claws into the man's heart which caused him to give a faint scream of terror then nothing. Victor quickly carved an "s" in the man's stomach that was like a lighting bolt. It was his symbol that he had been here. Kind of like a short way of writing "Sabertooth was here." Then he crawled back up to the roof and waited their until morning. Chapter 2 "Gaihert, I just can't believe it,"Lenna Deiran proclaimed in shock," they say this guy is immortal. They say he drinks blood...I've even heard that it tortures kids and hangs them for display to the public!" Lenna Deiran was a reporter for the Konradsohoe Sun. She was now standing in the chief's office arguing over the deal about the monster that came out at night everyone called Sabertooth. "That's only a myth Lenna,"cheif Gaihert said softly," it's only a story that's got popular among young people." Deiran growled and stamped her foot on the floor. Gaihert was a short long haired man with big vampire glasses. "Look at these photographs,"Deiran hissed slamming a stack of papers on her boss' desk, "these were taken of an attack that happened last night." Gaihert half smiled and took the photos in his hands to look at them. The first one showed a young man tied to a pole with a lightning bolt carved across his chest. The second showed to dead men on a sidewalk covered in dark blood. Then the third showed some blood and insides spilled onto the wooden floor of a building. Gaihert just shook his head in a disappointed smile. Deiran prepared for a horrible lecture on media but Gaihert only said one word,"bullcrap." "What do you mean,"Deiran shouted," these photos are perfect proof!" "Here at Konradsohoe Press, we only put facts in our papers not theories." "These are facts,"Deiran said. "Proof of what,"Gaihert smurked,"that three men were slaughtered in a building?" "That there is at least something out there killing people,"Deiran stated. Gaihert sat back in his chair and twirled his long hippy hair. He then looked at her as if to a child telling of an imaginary friend. "Look Ms. Deiran,"he said softly," this Sabertooth thing out there is like a Yeti. Only a tale that is among gang members throughout this city. They've interviewed residents in that neighborhood and figured that no one has seen the 'Sabertooth' except drugged up hoodlums in baggy pants and tattoos. It's something that should be posted in the 'Weekly World News' magazine of lies, not on the cover of my Sunday morning paper. Okay?" Deiran just shook her head and stamped out of the room angrily. She was tired of him doing this to her. It was this way every time she came up with a story. Gaihert always wanted something else from her than what she brought to him. Even when she brought him a story about what he wanted he would still say it was garbage of a blank mind. She was ready to quit and work for another press company. This was pathetic! Maybe she could get a job at the Bulletin in Oaklynn. That was just on the other side of the river from here. Any borough in Providence would be better than Konradsohoe. Here it was packed with people crammed everywhere you looked. When just across the river, it was just like a peaceful small town, only much larger.

She also needed to go pick her daughter up from school. Her daughter was sophomore in high school so she would be driving soon. But Deiran didn't know for sure around here. All of Providence was a poor, dirty city filled with street gangs and drugs. Deiran got her purse and looked over at co-chief at her desk beside her. His name was Dave Dromes

"Leaving early aren't you," he proclaimed.

"Oh, going to pick up my daughter from school," Deiran proclaimed.

"Colby Gaihert beating on you again," Dromes smiled, "if he is, don't worry. I can talk to him."

"Thanks," Deiran said and headed for the door to the hall.

Chapter 3 Victor sat on his couch inside his tiny apartment in the tenement he lived in. The apartment was only a room about the size of a motel room. It only had a stove, sink, TV stand, bed, couch, and a small desk where he worked on his laptop computer and writing materials. He wrote for a living and published his books online. He had found website to send his books to, and they would send him money for it. They always published them and he got good money, but he only got money about once every six months. That was why he lived like this. He had a dog named Rocky that always slept out on the balcony of his apartment. Victor watched the tv screen in boredom. He felt wind from his fan blow across his shirtless chest. He was sitting there in a pair of black jeans and Converses without socks on his feet. He starred at Jerry Springer's face talking with a fighting man and wife who her fist fighting on stage. The woman was hissing curse words in the man's face while he had her down. Victor laughed at the hilarious enraged woman. She obviously had anger problems. He watched this Reno 911, Most Haunted, and David Letterman all the time with many other shows that were either terrifying or hilarious. Just like him. In the day he was hilarious, and at night he haunted the streets to terrorize everyone. He felt bored. What was their to do around here but sit around, watch TV, and sleep all day. He stood up and walked out onto his balcony. The street below was empty. All but a few girls were inside their poor apartments. Across the street, a young boy walked out onto his balcony bare naked and leaned against the railing. He whistled at the girls down in the street and they went nuts, laughing and pointing as if it were a hilarious movie. Victor rolled his eyes looked toward the city central area. This city had no skyscrapers in it. Not one. It was to cheaply built. But he saw the Providence tower in the distance stretching 900 feet into the sky. So much higher than the buildings below which rarely went to a hundred feet. Most of the people around here didn't care about him but he may be able to find a job closer to the center of Midtown. But that was a dream. Nobody cared about him. But they didn't know he was Sabertooth. That was all that really mattered to him. He slowly walked back into his apartment to sit down at his laptop. It was an old one. About five years old but still worked fine. He logged onto the web to look at his books.

Mayor Sulvice sat at his desk in his office at the Konradsohoe Courthouse. His assistant, Jerry Louens, was in front of his desk holding a portfolio in his hands full of pictures. It would be in only two days that the cities 400th anniversary would take place. Sulvice wanted to have the celebration on Downtown Square to attract more people. But this rumor about Sabertooth worried him. People may not want to get out of their homes. But that was a bunch of crud about 'Sabertooth.' How many times did he have to tell the executives of this city, "there is no Sabertooth." People these days.

Sulvice was an elderly man in his mid sixties, balding head with brown hair which was getting gray, a pale face, and brown eyes. While Louens was much younger in his early thirties, black hair, a muscular pale body that was like that of a wrestler from WWE. His eyes seemed to be glaring all the time, but that was only his facial expression.

"Louens,"Sulvice proclaimed, "isn't there something you can do to get people out there?"

"I can only try to," Louens replied, "These people around here in Midtown are afraid to go out at night. This Sabertooth monster has got word all over town. I don't believe it, but most of the public does. To me there just scared of the Mothman."

"The Mothman,"Sulvice smirked, "that's some good phrase use. They act like this thing is some monster lurking in the shadows ready to kill anyone it sees."

"People are afraid to let their children go out at night,"Louens stated, "because they've heard it hangs kids, and sometimes rips out their wind pipe from their throats so no one hears them cry and scream."

"Ahhh,"Sulvice scowled, "that's the biggest shit I ever heard!"

Louens layed the portfolio down on the desk. It had nothing written on it at all.

"This is a collection of letters from concerned executives," he said, "they're all dealing with the celebration and the monster. They want you to know why they suggest that you not have the celebration this year."

"You listen to me now Louens," he shouted, "we are going to have this city's four hundredth anniversary celebration if we have to force people out their! This city has been through a lot in my lifetime. When I was small boy, half of this city's streets were unpaved and the school I went to was a rundown building with no windows, no desks, no seats, no private bathrooms, and a dirt floor! In the early eighties, there was the sniper who murdered three hundred people in a month! And just ten years ago in '98, half of the old wooden tenements in the South Side of Downtown burned to the ground! I tell you if we can have peace through all that, we can have it through this one monster man!!"

The room fell silent as Sulvice calmed himself down. Louens stared at him in seriousness. Sulvice realized he was standing up and sat back down in his chair. He sat back in his seat frustrated. These people around here were impossible. Ever since he moved here from his childhood home of Gestinal across the river, things had been this way for him.

"Louens,"he mumbled calmly, "Providence is a poor, dirty city in a poor part of the country. But that's no excuse for cowards and crime to be here."

"Maybe we should have it on Broadway Square," he grumbled, "lots of young people hang out there."

"Good idea,"Sulvice smiled, "let's get to work."

Chapter 4


	3. Police Strategies

Donald Berrecko was sitting in his office at the PPD (Providence Police Department) doing nothing but doodling on paper. There was nothing else better to do than that. His life was usual as a citizen of Konradsohoe; nothing to do but hang out until night came along and maybe he get time to go to a club. As a policeman, you would think he would be loaded with work. But since he was only a third class officer, he usually sat in this office unless it was a really big problem like a gang shootout or an attack on a school or something. There was a lot of that around here. Young people in gangs would go insane and do almost anything imaginable. There had been small terrorist attacks from them since Donald had been an officer at PPD. He probably wouldn't get a job until two days from now at the celebration in downtown.

Donald was a man of 27 years, brown hair, brown eyes, and thin built. He was married to a teacher at KHS (Konradsoshoe High School), and had one five year- old daughter who was obsessed with Action Heroes. A true tom-boy who clung to him like glue. His wife was probably just getting to work now since it was only 7:35 A.M. Donald had to be at work at 6:30A.M. on weekdays unless he was called to duty. Since he was only third class officer he only had to work on weekdays usually and wasn't called to duty on small events. Only the big stuff like directing traffic at big festivals or a school shooting. He was more attorney than officer.

"Hey Don," he heard Jack Cople shout at him from the office next door which was separated by glass. Cople was Donald's friend who had worked with him for three years.

"Don! I need you in here now!"

That idiot! Why couldn't he just use a phone? He was always shouting at him through the glass wall like a madman. Donald reluctantly walked through the glass door into Cople's office. Cople was a man of 26, blue eyes, and blond hair. His office was a mess unlike Donald's neat and labeled office with nothing out of place. This office had crumbled papers in the floor; pens all over the desk; calendars and maps hanging sideway on the wall; open files cabinets with manila folders scattered everywhere; and so on.

"There's this dude named Evan Thompson called," Cople stated, " from the tower and he wants you to be there right away."

"Who's he," Donald inquired.

"He didn't say. But he sounded cool'n all so they ain't no real reason to think your in trouble."

"Cool and all?"

"Well sump'n like that."

"What did he want?"

"I don't know. Probably just an interview or sump'n."

"Where at in the tower? There's like a million businesses in that thing."

"He said on the second level," Cople proclaimed.

The Providence Tower like similar to the Eiffel Tower only it was red and had an observatory at 300 feet up the tower which only a third of the way up the thing. The observatory had six levels for business, restaurants, apartments, clubs, theaters, and etc.

"I'm leaving then," Donald said. And began to walk out toward his office.

"See'ya old buddy," Cople waved.

Donald went back into his office to get his coat.


End file.
